


Confessions In The Dark

by Falcner95



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcner95/pseuds/Falcner95
Summary: Athos thought they were all asleep when he started talking about his family. What will he do when he realizes d'Artagnan heard him?





	1. Chapter 1

Firelight was as good as a confessional for what Athos had to say. Sitting propped up on a bed he quickly took stock of where he was at. A local inn surrounded by his brothers. Aramis had claimed Porthos's side and d'Artagnan had quickly taken Athos's right, snuggling closer like he was wont to do on missions.

Not that Athos minded, it kept the memories at bay for a bit longer than usual. Brushing the dark hair away from the young face the ex-comte allowed himself a small smile. 

d'Artagnan reminded him of Thomas in a way. Young, ready and willing to fight for a good reason but too willing to let his heart guide his head. He was brash and impulsive with the best of them but decent to a fault.

"You remind me of my brother. Both of you have the same attitude and the love you have for women is astounding. I wonder what Thomas would have been like had he lived a bit more." Athos's voice was just under a gentle rumble, not meaning to disturb but not quite whispering. Staring at the fireplace he continued his musings.

"My mother and father were wonderful people but not always there for us. My father had tried to get away from the Courts before to raise us properly, as he stated more than once. My mother though," Athos sighed and looked down at the three sleeping men, "My mother, bless her heart, taught us things not always needed to know. Piano music filled the halls except when Thomas and I practiced, then it sounded like a tortured cat." He chuckled and it sounded sad, even to his ears. 

"My mother was unconventional to say the least. She taught us music, how to cook for ourselves, even how to sew. She said we might need it one day." Another chuckle. "I wonder if she would laugh to see me now? We do all that stuff as it is." 

He spared a glance for his two oldest brothers. Curled up close to one another against the small draft of cold that lingered in the room he smirked. "If someone had once told me that this is where I would find myself years after leaving my land I think I would have slapped them."

Remembering the first time he had met the impulsive sharpshooter and his compatriot Athos winced. It hadn't been a good day to be introduced to the man let alone stand near him. He had been edgy all day and rattled after a night terror had left him sleepless the day before. Aramis though hadn't seemed to mind and talked enough for both of them, Porthos interjecting every now and then. Meeting d'Artagnan had been worse. Charged with his father's murder he had thought it fitting to die for a murder he hadn't committed.

A hand wrapping itself around his wrist startled him out of his revere. Looking down he blinked. Brown eyes that were quite alert met his and he quickly understood that d'Artagnan had heard everything. 

"You're not alone, y'know. We've all been to those places before. Talking about memories hurt but they help you heal...eventually." The young Gascon sighed and placed his head back on Athos's hip. Closing his eyes he spoke again, "if you would like to keep talking I promise not to interrupt. What was Thomas like when he was a child?"

Athos couldn't speak for a few minutes more as he processed what was happening. d'Artagnan had heard everything it seemed. From the top to the end, he had heard it all. 

"Athos? I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I couldn't sleep and then you started talking and I didn't want to interrupt and -."

"Shush before you wake the others. It is fine, I will live. It was not your fault that you couldn't sleep." Running his fingers through d'Artagnan's hair he gave a small reassuring smile to the young musketeer. "Would you like to hear the rest then?"  
ďArtagnan nodded and Athos grinned. Tell young people stories and they always want more. 

"He was like you but not. He lived sparring and riding. He also liked the Court life while I did not. He knew just what to say at any given moment and could turn any situation for the better. He also liked to hear stories. DIdn’t matter what kind either, he loved them all. I remember all the hours we spent in the library at home just reading them aloud to each other. Mother would always find us curled up ont he piles we had somehow managed to go through and place a blanket over us. We’d wake up sore but never complained, we loved the stories too much.”

“I can see that happening, actually,” d’Artaganan teased, chuckling. Yawning he settled back down and snuggled closer. Closing his eyes once again Athos was happy to see him fall into sleep a few minutes later. 

“Yes, I can too,” Athos whispered, a sad smile on his face from the memories but his heart felt a bit lighter than it ever had before. Maybe confessions in the dark weren’t so bad after all.


	2. d'Artagnan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> d'Artagnan gets hurt yet again. Athos cares for him. More confessions come to light.

Maybe it was the fire light, Athos thought. It lulled you in and made it seem alright to speak about anything. Even when you sat next to the bed of an injured brother. 

Looking to his right he shook his head and sighed. Reaching over he replaced the now dry cloth for a new one, cold and wet. Laying it on d'Artagnan's forehead he winced as the young Musketeer flinched away from it. 

"ďArtagnan, come now. We have to get this fever down. Quit fighting me boy."

The words, half growled but said with love, went unheard. The body on the bed still whimpered and thrashed weakly as if to get away from an unseen force. Athos swore and went to the window. Opening it he stuck his head out for fresh air, took two deep breaths and went back to his charge. 

Porthos and Aramis were out with the King on another one of his famous "Hunting Trips" and weren't due back until weeks end. They probably hadn't expected the boy to go and find trouble, but he had. A fight with an angry Red Guard had Athos breaking it up but not before somebody had put a pistol ball in the lads shoulder. Athos certainly hadn't seen it coming. 

Sighing yet again Athos had to shake his head. He already knew that their young Gascon was quite like his brother at a younger age. The same brashness, stubborn to a fault, but loyal and honest. The older man just couldn't see what the young man saw in HIM though. 

Sitting himself down next to the bed he stretched his legs in front of him. Closing his eyes for a minute he jumped when he heard a harsh whimper next to him. Shaking the sleep off he stared at the bed, blue eyes widening when he saw brown ones staring back. "ďArtagnan?"

" 'urts," the boy whimpered. His eyes closed against the pain minutes later, his breathing ragged.

Athos hated that he couldn't help any but what else could he do except what he had been doing.

"Thos?"

The older Musketeer gave a low hum in answer, pulling the only slightly damp cloth off the younger's head and replacing it.

" -papa."

This made Athos stop and look at his young charge. "What was that ďArtagnan? I'm afraid I didn't hear all of it."

"You 'mind me of my Father. He was like you."

"Drunk and irresponsible of the people under my care?"

Weakly shaking his head the young Gascon tried to argue. It did nothing for his condition. Turning his head and coughing Athos could see the wince as it pulled at his shoulder. 

"Not 'sponsible of others. You...care 'bout them. Makes you...good."

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry for what I said earlier now will you get some rest?"

"See just like a papa. He always did that too." d'Artagnan's eyes closed shut and the boy hummed as Athos wiped away the sweat on his forhead.

"I miss him sometimes. When things get bad or when a mission doesn't go right, I wish he were here. But you make up for it. You don't let us wallow in failure. That's why you're like a papa. You keep everything in line."

"I see. So if I'm the father figure here then what does that make Aramis and Porthos? The fun Uncle and the annoying big brother respectively?"

ďArtagnan grinned as best as he could and nodded tiredly. Letting his eyes slip close ďArtagnan finally succumbed to sleep leaving Athos shaking his head. 

Taking his position by the bed again the elder Musketeer took up the mantle of protector and, according to their newest member, father, yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for the Reviewer,DebbieF, who said they wished for a follow-up. I hope I did it justice. And sorry for the late update I went back to school and started a finance class. Hope everyone's New Year was grand!

**Author's Note:**

> So just a short little one shot that wanted to be written. If you want more drop a line and maybe a scenario, I'll try to write it as best as I can.


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